


The Adventures of Hot Glasses Guy & Hot Barista

by jooliewrites



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Baristas, Fluff, M/M, pining connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 20:39:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3543059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jooliewrites/pseuds/jooliewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hot Glasses Guy is reading a new book.</p>
<p>Connor spots the customer who he may or may not have a massive crush on (he does) as he slips behind the counter. He half listens as Asher gives the highlights from the morning shift and ties his apron around his waist, trying to be inconspicuous as he attempts to read the title of Hot Glasses Guy’s book. The red cover and gold script of the title looks familiar; it almost looks like a book he had to read last semester for Intro to Political Fiction.</p>
<p>“Dude. Are you even listening?” Asher asks, snapping Connor’s attention back.</p>
<p>“Yeah. I’m here. We’re out of light roast.”</p>
<p>“Dark roast, man. Dark roast. What’s got you all—?” Asher looks over his shoulder. “Oh. I see. Hot Glasses Guy.”</p>
<p>+</p>
<p>A Coliver/College & Coffee Shop AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Adventures of Hot Glasses Guy & Hot Barista

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill originally posted on tumblr for: "“You saw me reading the same book you did and we got into a heated discussion on how much it sucks”
> 
> Hope you enjoy,  
> -Jules xoxo

Hot Glasses Guy is reading a new book.

Connor spots the customer who he may or may not have a massive crush on (he does) as he slips behind the counter. He half listens as Asher gives the highlights from the morning shift and ties his apron around his waist, trying to be inconspicuous as he attempts to read the title of Hot Glasses Guy’s book. The red cover and gold script of the title looks familiar; it almost looks like a book he had to read last semester for Intro to Political Fiction.

“Dude. Are you even listening?” Asher asks, snapping Connor’s attention back.

“Yeah. I’m here. We’re out of light roast.”

“Dark roast, man. _Dark_ roast. What’s got you all—?” Asher looks over his shoulder. “Oh. I see. Hot Glasses Guy.”

“Wha—how do—who told you—” Connor pulls Asher by the elbow down to the far end of the counter, as far away from said customer as possible, and whispers. “Who told you about Hot Glasses Guy?”

“Dude. We all know you’re dying to bone the guy,” Asher teases. “But Michaela clued me in on the nickname.”

Connor rubs an exasperated hand over his brow. “Oh my god.”

Asher just smiles and reaches into the pastry display to restock and pull out the empty trays. “Want to know his name?”

“You know his name?” Asher nods with a knowing grin; Connor has been trying to figure out Hot Glasses Guy’s actual name for weeks. “Well, what is it?”

“What you gonna give me for it?”

“What? I’m not going give you anything for it.”

“Well that’s too bad,” Asher says and goes to carry the empty trays to the back. “I’m going to grab more stock from the back. You good out here for a minute?”

Connor watches Asher turn away and gives in. “I’ll take your Friday night shift.”

“Friday night _and_ Sunday morning,” Asher counters.

Connor considers. “Deal.”

Asher smiles and leans in to avoid being overheard. “It’s Oliver.”

+

“Need a warm up?” Oliver head snaps up at the Hot Barista’s simple question. When Oliver just stares blankly at the most gorgeous person he’s ever seen in real life, Hot Barista tries again. “Your coffee?” He gestures to the empty cup in front of Oliver. “Want a refill?”

“Yeah.” Oliver coughs a little to cover up how his voice squeaked out the word. “Yeah. A refill’d be great.” Hot Barista grins and Oliver may or may not check out the guy’s ass as he turns to refill the mug (he does).

“Thanks,” Oliver says once the full mug is back in front of him.

“So,” Hot Barista runs a rag over the counter before leaning down to rest his elbow on it. “What do you think off—” He gestures to the book in Oliver’s hand.

“Oh, it’s—” Oliver’s unsure how to respond. One the one hand, the book is a best seller and seems to be on every best books list. On the other hand, Oliver hates it. “It’s…interesting.”

Hot Barista seems to consider Oliver’s answer for a moment before, “You hate it.”

“No,” Oliver shakes his head. “No. No. I—I wouldn’t say that.”

“You totally hate it,” the other man teases and grins, wide and teethy and _gorgeous_. “It’s okay,” He leans in to whisper. “I hated it too.”

“You did?” Oliver questions, excitement in his tone. Everyone he’s talked with just _loves_ this book and he cannot understand why.

Hot Barista nods. “Oh yeah. Read it last semester for class.”

“Intro to Political Fiction?” Oliver asks.

“Yeah. With Prof. Harris?” Hot Barista’s tone is excited too.

Oliver nods, fast and furious. “I hate this class!”

“Oh my god. I hated it too,” the other man bemoans. They smile at each other, bonding instantly. “All the books were so boring.”

“So boring!”

“And that one!” He points to the book. “Where are you at?”

“The main moron guy just got called to the White House to talk about the press leak.”

“Oh god. You haven’t even gotten—it gets so much worse.”

“How?” Oliver asks with disbelief. “How can it possibly get worse? It’s already worse.” He leans down a little to prop up his chin on his hand. “Why do people like this book?”

Hot Barista shakes his head and shrugs, “No idea.”

“I mean, we’re smart people,” Oliver says.

"Obviously,” the other man nods.

"Capable of following detailed plots and appreciating complex characters.”

“True,” he nods again.

“This book,” Oliver holds up his copy, “is _terrible_. Terribly written. Terrible plot. Terrible characters. Just terrible.”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

They share a grin but this one turns shy at the end. Oliver looks down to fiddle with the handle of his mug and the barista runs the rag over the counter again. With the limited topic of the book all but exhausted, Oliver isn’t quite sure what to say to this guy except, “I’m Oliver.”

“Yeah—I—” He shakes his head to stop himself and instead responds with, “Connor.”

They’re silent again and Oliver racks is brain for something to say. Anything to say. Anything to keep Connor standing right here, talking with him. _So, what’s your major?_ Too lame. _So, what year are you?_ Even worse.

Thankfully, Connor steps in to save them both from the uncomfortable silence. “So, want to get dinner later?”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://ramblesandreblogs.tumblr.com/)


End file.
